When I wrote this poem I was at a state of bitterness and figuring out WHY. Where should I be right now? Am I making the best decision? Are my decisions upright and full of God’s grace?
Or am I at a state of being stagnant and allowing myself to be in turmoil within the echoes of frigidness and lack of optimism?
Are those who I am surrounded with good, mediocre, bold, wonderful, alright?
Well, obviously, I had to write it down.
I realized I was being more self-aware of who I was and who I was surrounded with and it was quite refreshing and liberating after I wrote this because my troubled heart became softened.
–Photo by Lee Seonghak-
[Written on: 10.14.2014]
As I look around the room of fake smiles, and echoes of no recognition.
I’ve seen selfishness and pride.
I’ve also seen greed and reward.
A leader is to be selfless, not selfish.
Humility is to be meek, not rushed.
Goodness is to be given freely, willingly.
I’ve seen those burnt out, helpless, and trying.
I see newness and their blind optimism.
I’ve seen fear with words exclaimed in an exhausting effort.
I’ve seen fear in a glance.
Most of all – I’ve seen fear in attention for oneself.
Attention of too much praise, or too little, or not at all.
“The way you behave is ugly,” i exclaimed with a loud voice.
My fear of their listening ears receiving a whisper.
A whisper they want to depend upon.
The room shakes with fury and many conversations.
The room dims and shines bright with compelling excuses.
The room stands still and calm when everything is recklessly structured.
Not one soul has the courage to break the ground.
I’ve seen tears of frustration.
I’ve seen joyfulness of a day given freely, away from the struggle.
I’ve seen jealousy to those of whom are counting down their last days of marching.
We tread, we bicker, and we still follow the one who demands foolishness.
“I need to change my movement,” I whispered, “I need to change my reflection.”
Off I go exclaiming my fearful attention.
Will they remark with vile words and wretched actions?
To my left and to my right I’m noticing distance.
Only five more steps to reflect on my fearful attention.
Soon it will be one step, and my reflection is not of fear or of attention, but rejoicing for being able to march above.
To follow grace and be filled in a room where the windows are open. To be in a room where there isn’t mayhem, but a stillness where I approach with vigor attention.